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  Second Chance

  Copyright © 2012 by Debbie Gould

  ISBN: 978-1-61333-192-7

  Cover art by LFD Designs

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Decadent Publishing Company, LLC

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  www.decadentpublishing.com

  Second Chance

  A 1Night Stand Story

  By

  Debbie Gould

  Chapter One

  Colin had no idea what to say to her. What was there to say? It’s not as if he wanted to leave her. Tabitha was his only home outside of his Special Ops team. His heart, his light, his safe haven. He had no words to comfort her, none that could make this better for her. He couldn’t promise he’d be back. She knew the deal. He could only promise to do his best.

  He held his wife’s hand and wished to God he could take the pain for her. “You’re not the one who signed up for military life, but you got drafted when you married me. I wish to God I could do something to make this easier for you, baby, but I don’t know what.”

  He cupped her face and thumbed away her tears. Damn it, he felt like bawling. She turned her head, kissed his palm, and lowered his hands to her swollen belly.

  “I’ll be fine, Colin. My sister’s on her way. I get that this isn’t what you planned. You wanted to be here, but please don’t worry about us.” She paused to take in a shaky breath. “You keep your focus and get back home as soon as you can.” Pain and sadness shone in her eyes, reflected by her tears, but she put up a damn good front. “Wheels up in an hour, soldier. Move out.”

  Leaning in, he kissed her with every bit of love he had for her until he couldn’t stand the pain of his heart breaking another second. “I love you, Tabitha. I love this baby.”

  “I know you do, but you need to leave. You need to forget us for now. Go do your job and come home safe.” She released his hand and pushed it from her stomach. “Go, now. That’s an order.”

  She gave him a weak smile, and he admired how brave she tried to be. Colin kissed her forehead and walked to the door. He looked over his shoulder one last time at his beautiful wife, lying in the hospital bed. The monitors spat out paper, measuring the contractions and the baby’s heartbeat. She rubbed her belly until she reached out and grabbed the bed rail, her knuckles turning white.

  With his heart aching, he left Tabitha’s room and met her sister outside the doorway. “Hey, Emily. I can’t thank you enough for coming.”

  She smiled up at him. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else. Even if you didn’t have to leave, you couldn’t have kept me away.”

  He gave her a quick hug. “Take care of her for me. Another contraction is on the way. They’re coming close now.”

  “It’s okay, Colin.” She smiled and squeezed his arm. “I’ll take good care of her.”

  Sixty minutes later, he sat strapped into his seat, peering out at the dark sky. One last prayer. Then on to the mission at hand.

  ***

  Two years later…. Colin squeezed his eyes shut against the bittersweet memory. Sweet in that his beautiful daughter had been born that night two years ago, but the over-powering image, the one that changed his life forever? The loss of his wife.

  He’d gone on that damn mission and come home four days later expecting to find his wife and baby waiting for him. Instead, he’d been greeted by his commander and the base chaplain. Complications, they’d said. Hemorrhage. The doctors did all they could. Their words had been nothing but garble. All he’d registered was Tabitha’s death and that he hadn’t been there for her. The rest of what they had to say made no difference.

  It had taken all his strength to climb the stairs and enter the room Tabitha had worked so hard to turn into a nursery for their little girl. Her sister, Emily, had been sitting in the rocking chair holding the baby.

  Isabelle. Even now, the memory tore at his soul. He’d taken the small, fragile bundle in his arms, stared into her beautiful, deep blue eyes, and lost it. He’d slid down the wall, clutched his daughter to his chest, and bawled like a baby.

  After what had seemed like hours, he’d handed Isabelle back to Emily, walked out of his home, and kept going. The pain of staying had been too great. He sent Emily his bi-weekly checks, keeping enough to pay the rent on his one bedroom apartment and eat. He saw Isabelle when he returned Stateside—a rare occasion—and lived for the job. The one thing he knew he wouldn’t screw up.

  His team member and best friend, Bobby “Cat” Martin, sat next to him in the hull of the Osprey CV-22 flying them back to Hurlburt Field, Florida. “So, Ghost. What’re ya gonna do for the next thirty days?” He popped a handful of his never-ending Skittles into his mouth and attempted to talk around them. “Ish about time the captain makes you take some of your leave. Four days in two years.” He shook his head. “You’re gonna burn out, bro.”

  Ghost. The new handle he’d picked up in the last two years, due not only to his ability to slip in and out of hostile territory without detection, but also because his team insisted he’d become a ghost of the man he used to be. Maybe they were right—he’d shut off his emotions the moment he’d left Isabelle with her aunt and turned his back on his home.

  He had no business raising a daughter. He’d failed her mother, and inevitably he’d fail her, too. Better to keep his distance and avoid the pain.

  “I don’t have a clue what to do with myself.” He shrugged. His only goal was to find something to keep his mind from drifting to the past the way it always did when not on a mission. “It’s gonna drive me bat shit crazy, though. If I’d wanted fucking leave, I’d have taken it. I’m good at what I do, Cat. I need to be out there, focused on the job, not sitting around with my thumbs stuck up my ass.”

  Bobby popped more Skittles in his mouth. “Hmm, well here’s a novel idea for you.” Ever the drama king, he paused for effect. “Why don’t you spend the time with your daughter and Emily?”

  “How big of an ass do you think I am? I’ll see them.”

  “I’m not talking about an hour out of your thirty days, Ghost. I meant like a vacation. Why don’t you take them somewhere, spend some good quality time getting to know Isabelle?” Bobby crumpled the empty candy bag and shoved it in his BDU pants pocket. “Shit, this is our first time home in six months. It’s been longer than that since you’ve seen them. Don’t you think it’s time?”

  Colin thrust his hand through his hair and glared at his friend. “What are you, my mother? Do you keep tabs on everyone else the way you do me?”

  “Yeah, you’re the son I never wanted.” Bobby bent to unlace his combat boots. “Christ, do you even remember when you used to enjoy life, when you looked forward to the mission ending and going home?”

  “Yeah. I also remember the exact fucking day that joy ended.” What was up with his friend? He’d been there two years ago. He’d been the
one who’d scraped his drunken ass off the barstool, the one who’d kept him sane and sober throughout the funeral arrangements and service. The one who’d kept him from swallowing his gun on Tabitha’s grave. Damn. “Why are we even discussing this?”

  “Because Isabelle just turned two, and you haven’t seen her in over six months. It’s time to become a father.”

  “Holy shit, Bobby. What would you have had me do? Teleport my ass from the mountains of Afghanistan to Florida? We were in the middle of an Op, for shit’s sake.”

  “Yeah, and now we’re not.” He pulled his boots off and set them aside. “You have thirty days free. Time to get reacquainted with your little girl, and while you’re at it, you could get to know Emily.”

  “I already know Emily,” he ground out through clenched teeth.

  “Yeah, well, I have a feeling she wants you to know her better.”

  “Well, I don’t want.” His jaw tightened. “Why are you pushing this?”

  Bobby grabbed his mobility bag and placed it against the wall behind him. “Like I said, it’s time to be a dad. Fuck, it’s time to be a human again and not the robot you’ve become.” He stretched out on his back, his head resting on the sack, arms crossed over his chest. “You’ve been hiding too long, Ghost. Time to resurrect yourself.”

  “I’m not hiding, damn it. You of all people know what Tabitha’s death did to me. I’d say I’m functioning pretty damn well.” He lived, breathed, ate, and drank his job. When he drowned himself in the operations, he didn’t have to live with the guilt that had plagued him since the night he’d left his wife in labor.

  Bobby snorted. “Uh huh. And that’s why your daughter doesn’t even know you.”

  “She knows me. Christ, you act like I’m a deadbeat, like I don’t support her.”

  “Do you love her?”

  “Of course I do!” he bellowed. “What the hell kind of question is that?”

  “Does she understand why you’re absent in her life?” Bobby glanced up at him, compassion in his gaze. “Tabitha is the one who died, Ghost, not you, but that little girl lost both her parents that night. She’s two now. Soon she’ll be asking questions. You gonna leave it to Emily to explain why her father, the big, strong, Air Force Special Ops dude, can’t stomach being in her life?”

  “You’re out of line.” He didn’t need this shit right now. He wanted to sleep until they got to base. Then he’d find something to occupy him for the next four weeks—something that didn’t look up at him with big, green eyes that reminded him of Tabitha.

  “Am I? It’s time to move on. Emily and Isabelle are right there waiting for you. All you have to do is reach out for them.”

  “Emily is Tabitha’s sister, for Christ sake.” And a beautiful, smart, sexy woman–another excellent reason to stay away. Tabitha had given up everything to be with him. Yet, he’d let her down, chosen his duty to the military over his duty to her. He’d blown his chance at happiness. He didn’t deserve another.

  “Don’t you think Tabitha would want you to move on, to raise your daughter and be happy?”

  “No, I don’t. I think she would like it if I rotted in Hell. I don’t think she would want me anywhere near Isabelle. And she sure as hell wouldn’t want me involved with her sister. Fucking up one of their lives is enough.”

  “You’re wrong. That’s not—”

  “Enough.” He sliced his hand through the air. “Enough psychobabble, enough prying into my brain. Unless you’ve gotten a damn degree I don’t know about, leave it alone.”

  He scrubbed his hands over his face. I don’t need this shit. He lived the way he chose. Numb. “When you find the love of your life, walk out on her on what should be one of the happiest days of your lives, and return to find her dead, then you can tell me what I should and shouldn’t do. Until then, shut the fuck up.” He leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. Pain ripped through his chest. God damn he missed Tabitha. “Please.”

  Bobby rolled over on his side, facing away from him, but what he’d said kept replaying in Colin’s head. He was wrong. Isabelle didn’t need him playing an active role in her life. When she grew up and understood how he’d let her mother down, she’d hate him anyway.

  And, Emily? He let his mind wander to the attraction he’d felt toward her during his last few visits. What the hell kind of asshole seduced his dead wife’s sister knowing he couldn’t give her any more than a hot, sweaty roll in the sack?

  No, he’d had his chance at a happy ever after, and he’d thrown it all away for the job. His future consisted of the next mission. And the one after that.

  Until finally, he didn’t come home at all.

  Chapter Two

  Emily spread the soft cotton blanket over the white sand, set her pink picnic basket to the side, and opened the beach umbrella to give them a bit of shade. Isabelle frolicked in circles, waiting to be led to the crystal blue water of the Gulf. With the clear sky above and an easy tropical breeze coming off the water, it was shaping up to be a beautiful Saturday.

  Taking the little girl’s tiny hand, Emily tugged her toward the water’s edge, while the toddler’s squeals of joy danced straight to her heart. There’d been a time when looking at Isabelle had been a bit painful. She resembled Tabitha so much. The same bright green eyes, the same jet-black hair. Even the dimples in Izzy’s cheeks mirrored her mother’s.

  A huge part of Emily’s world died when Tabitha did. Only ten months apart, they’d been as close as sisters could be. But the sight of Isabelle soon changed from being painful to delight. Tabitha might be gone, but her soul and lust for life lived on through her baby. In the past twenty-three months, Isabelle had come to mean more to her than life itself.

  They splashed in the waves, jumping over the little ones and falling into the big ones. The air and water remained warm on the Florida Gulf Coast in November, but the summer-time tourists had packed up and gone home, leaving the beach all but deserted.

  After playing in the ocean and searching for shells, Emily carried a water-pruned Izzy back to the blanket. Wrapped in a towel, the toddler jabbered on about the water and shells they’d found. The chatty little girl seemed to have a language all her own. Emily could pick out and understand some of her words, but many remained unknown, at least to her. Izzy sure knew what she said, though.

  “Chips, Mamma. Pease.”

  Now those words, Emily understood. “How about some lunch first?” She pulled a peanut butter and jelly sandwich out of the picnic basket and handed half to Isabelle.

  “Chips?” the baby questioned.

  “Sandwich first, please.”

  Isabelle hesitated before flashing a pearly, white smile and diving in. A good eater for a toddler, she didn’t turn her nose up at much. Emily delighted seeing her enjoy so many things. She’d given up everything for Isabelle—quit her job, left her friends, and relocated so the child would have those rare moments with her dad—and it was all worth it to sit here and watch her devour a sandwich.

  “There my girls are.”

  Emily’s heart kicked into double time. Scooping Isabelle up, she jogged across the beach and threw herself into Bobby’s arms, giving him a ferocious hug.

  “Oh, we’ve missed you.” She glanced over his shoulder, hoping Colin had come with him. “When did you get back?”

  Bobby took the little girl from her, threw her straight up in the air, caught her, and then swung her around in circles. Isabelle squealed in delight.

  “Last night.” Bobby tossed the little girl onto his shoulders and bounced her back to the blanket. “I stopped by the house, and when I didn’t find you there, I headed for my next best bet. It’s a beautiful day, and this is your favorite hangout.”

  “You know us well, Mr. Martin.” She wanted badly to ask about Colin but didn’t want to be rude.

  “He’s fine and stubborn as ever,” he said.

  She grinned. “Am I that transparent?”

  “No, I just know you that well.” H
e chuckled and grabbed Isabelle’s plastic bucket and shovel. “Besides, I haven’t talked to you in a week, and you won’t call him, so you must be chomping at the bit for news.”

  Emily dug into the picnic basket and grabbed three juice boxes. Inserting the straw in one and handing it to Izzy, she set another next to Bobby, and opened the third for herself. “You make me sound like a doe-eyed schoolgirl.”

  He shoved sand into the bucket. “Well, you sure are pretty as one.”

  Emily shoved him on the shoulder. “Oh, knock it off. You’re only saying that because you feel obligated as Isabelle’s godfather to be nice to me.”

  He snapped his gaze to her, suddenly serious. “If I thought for one moment that I stood even half a chance with you, I’d be all over it. You’re the total package, darlin’. But Mama didn’t raise no dummy here. I know where your heart lies. And my boy, Colin, deserves it.” He ruffled Isabelle’s hair. “And baby Bella here deserves it. So, don’t cut yourself short, Emmy, you’re one hell of a woman.”

  Emily’s heart squeezed. “Yeah? Well not a very smart one, apparently. If I were, I’d have fallen for the guy who actually wants me rather than the one doing his damnedest to avoid me.”

  “Well, now, I said you were a hell of a woman. I didn’t say you were smart.” He rolled his eyes at her. “Just kidding. Besides, I have a feeling his reasons for wanting to avoid you have changed over the last year.”

  Emily sat up straighter. “What do you mean?”

  Bobby packed down the sand with the flat of his hand, upended the bucket, and slammed it down. Lifting it away, he left a castle-shaped form. “Perfection.”

  Izzy giggled, clapped her hands, and proceeded to stomp all over the castle he’d made.

  “Why, you little twerp, you.”

  Isabelle jumped up and down. “Casa Unca Obby. Casa.”

  Blowing raspberries on her chubby little tummy, he shook his head and began the procedure again. Emily watched the interaction between man and baby and blinked back tears. Colin should be here. He’d already lost so much of his daughter’s young life, and her heart hurt to think of all the things he would never get to enjoy with her. He’d missed her first steps, her first tooth, her first words…. He’d never get any of that back.